Size of Pets

I’ve had occasion lately to think about the size of pets. For one thing, my older son and daughter-in-law are visiting from Chicago with their Puli, Piper, who, though not very big, was too large to fit in the cabin of the plane. She is crate-trained and rode in the plane’s appropriate compartment and all went well.

I’m also a lurker on a loop of people who, like me, love Cavalier King Charles Spaniels. One of the recent posts was about how someone acquiring a Cavalier can be sure it’ll stay of a size that will fit in a smaller bag that can fit under a plane’s seats. The answer? No guarantees, although some remain that size. Not necessarily our Lexie, though Mystie certainly would fit.

And then there was the news story about a six-pound Chihuahua named Tinker Bell who was picked up by a 70-mph gust of wind picked up the and carried away. The owners contacted a pet psychic who told them to look in some nearby woods--and there was Tinker Bell! I’d really be freaked out if either my 20-pound Cavalier Lexie or her 10-pound Cavalier friend Mystie got picked up in a windstorm--like Toto, in The Wizard of Oz!

By the way, I attended the Los Angeles Times Festival of Books at the UCLA campus last weekend. It was great! I signed NEVER SAY STY at two booths and had a lot of great feedback from readers who stopped by to buy or say hi. And, yes, some people brought their dogs along to the festival--pups of all sizes.

Yesterday, I participated in the Melody of Words, an event celebrating the published word, at a local high school. No pets there, but a great group of interested students, faculty and other interested members of the community.

How big is your ideal pet?

--Linda

VOILA!

Well, I was wrong about Buttons and Bones. The problem wasn’t as simple as needing more information about what a body and its clothing might look like after sixty-odd years in a root cellar. What the book lacked was passion. Somebody needed desperately to know the solution to the rather clever puzzle I’ve dreamed up.

How did I come to realize this? Well, when I find myself up against a brick wall and needing distraction or inspiration or some kind of get-away, I turn to old favorite novels, and this time I got out Busman’s Holiday by Dorothy Sayers. Wow, every single character in that novel was passionate about the situation. It practically glows in the dark. The two main characters, Lord Peter Wimsey and his new wife, Harriet, face the problems every newly wed couple face, but a new one as well: he gets all passionate about sleuthing, which makes him miserable at times, and she has the power to call him off. Should she? Will she? She loves his desperately, she hates to see him unhappy. But he is passionate about sleuthing.

I went from reading that story to the suddenly-flat-looking plot of my own as if seeing it for the first time.

It took a day or two of consideration, and a consultation with my agent, editor, and special partner in plotting to come up with a fresh angle. Now I’m excited about writing my novel, and it has inspired me to think more deeply about the affair I’m just starting between my sleuth and her impending new love.

Of course, there’s a complication: I’m flying out tomorrow to Washington, DC, for a mystery convention called Malice Domestic. I won’t have time to do much plotting or writing while there, and I’m hoping things don’t get stale while they wait for my undivided attention.
I recommend Malice Domestic, by the way. A very comfortable, enjoyable, exciting convention for fans of the traditional or cozy mystery novel.

My eyes continue to heal, though they still are not quite back to the vision levels I had before surgery. Annoying.

The Perils of Pauline

My guest today is Robert W. Walker, the author of over forty novels with a record eight series heroes and heroines.

“Write to your opposite” is Walker’s watchword as “this forces you into a worthwhile writing challenge. So set your stories in exotic places you’ve never been with exotic characters you’ve never known. You’ll surprise yourself.”

Whether you're a reader or a writer or both, you'll find this post most interesting!

Here's Robert:

Visit his website www.robertwalkerbooks.com!

CREATING COMPELLING HEROINES
or Making the Perils of Pauline Routine


The Voice of one’s female-lead detective or PI in crime fiction--above all elements-- must be consistent, just as your choice of words, control of weak qualifiers, control of adverbs and adjectives, down to your grammatical skill all impact on VOICE, the final product, your lead character’s VOICE controls the novel and reassures the reader even as it lulls him or her into “becoming” the leading lady.

The sound of the bell your narration and dialogue rings in the reader’s head must be unique, believable, likeable, even loveable, and if you cannot make it ‘sing’ then at least make it ‘clear’. The difference between confusing readers, and\or sounding wishy-washy, or sounding like ‘unto one who is awash in political mish-mash’ (like someone who cannot commit) as opposed to an assured, authentic, absolute voice (like someone who is committed) is in one’s authorial voice. And this compelling voice relies on absolutes over qualifiers in the narrative. This is even truer of the feminine lead written by a male author!

To pull off the so-called “impossible” –getting into the head of the opposite sex and understanding from this point of view, surprisingly enough, surrounds elemental, fundamental reliance on a “woman of substance” in the VOICE. If you are a female author struggling with how to get into the psyche and ‘mindset’ of a male lead, just reverse what I say here.

VOICE in dramatic, commercial fiction in particular relies heavily on strong Active Voice over weak passive voice. These basic grammatical decisions (word choice, exorcising qualifiers for absolutes, using active verbs over passives and cripplingly slow helping verbs, and exorcising the verb to be) are the crucibles about which E.B. White wrote in The Elements of Style and supported by the fine book Writing Shapely Fiction by Jerome Stern. Style comes out of extremely small elements you choose to make work for you--or items you fail to utilize.

As small as the choice difference between say the word before and ago, maybe and perhaps, this is “shaping” voice. This “becomes you”--BECOMES your style. If you choose a folksy or shoddy or simplistic or complex or formal or informal voice, your reader will know it from the outset and is normally willing to follow it so long as this voice remains consistent and consistently believable. So is VOICE the single most important element of your story? Absolutely, and yet it is created of all the other elements and choices you choose to make from setting to dialect to no dialect to the difference between between and betwixt, leaped and leapt.

All good writing relies on the reader ‘falling for’ your narrative voice, the point of view speaker, the mind you set your reader down into comfortably or awkwardly. If it is an ill fit, little wonder as an author is a trick cyclist on the unicycle juggling twenty four plates in the air, spinning each ‘choice and decision and element’ at the end of long sticks. Each plate, each stick, each prop is an important element, but they all culminate in the overall effect your story has on the reader’s ear and mind’s eye. If I had said the writer is LIKE a trick cyclist rather than stating it as a fact, it rings a different bell, sends a different and less powerful impact. The use of LIKE and AS is terribly overdone in some “voices” in female-lead crime fiction.

The use of passives, especially the WAS verb—a major killer of action and visualization—also riddles most fiction and especially in the first person narrative along with the personal pronoun references to the narrator: I, me, my, mine, myself, often using the personal pronoun three and four times in a given sentence. What a reader hears and pictures comes about as result of our giving him a believable SOUND in his head—the author’s voice, or the narrative voice (not always the same) or the character’s voice, along with providing Kodak moments in the reader’s head that look, feel, taste, smell, and sound like images.

The human brain sorts its mail via images, so it behooves us to use verbs that carry the weight of an image. We call this simile and metaphor and extended metaphor, but the absolute is even more powerful than these. Absolute detail, as in a Name is a photo in the mind, as a Number is an instamatic shot in the mind. Metaphorical language then and Verb Choice then create style and voice; and if we choose verbs that fire off shots of photographic moments as in SLAM, divorced, cuddled, crammed, leapt, jarred, frightened over the weak helping verbs as in the door WAS slamming, they were thinking about maybe getting a divorce, had been cuddled, was cramming, was about to leap, was feeling a bit frightened, we REDUCE the photo or blur it considerably. We clip ourselves at the knees when we overuse ly words and qualifiers in which sentence the strong verb is relegated to a murmur somewhere along the line of thought.

Most assuredly helping and passive voice verbs such as was SLOW the action and the firing of the photo in the brain of the reader if it gets there at all. Strong female VOICE carries the day in crime fiction with female leads. The ‘secret’ to creating strong voice, male or female is the same!

There is/was/has been no more insidious word in the English language to insinuate itself on sentences like a parasitic leech than the verb to be, and in particular the word WAS. Take a moment and picture for me a was in your head; next, define the word was in the manner you might define any action/active verb and you cannot. Picture was now in your mind and tell me what you ARE\WAS seeing? Do same for throw/threw/thrown or torch/torched. Jessica bolted from her seat RATHER THAN Jessica was about to maybe stand up as she was sipping her coffee. Meredyth torqued up her language whenever Lucas Stonecoat entered her office. The man enraged her.

These examples “fire off” mental imagery and are far more photographic and Strong in Voice than is this: Meredyth was (in the process of) thinking about perhaps torching up her language whenever she was confronted by Lucas’s presence in her office Lucas, by the same token, was nervously thinking about maybe entering the room. If you wish to write Passively go write speeches for politicians and supreme court justices.

One style or Voice is the point: pointed, photogenic and active, while the second lacks control, hard to determine point, less than pointed or photogenic and entirely passive and riddled with WASes that often beget more Qualifying. A storyteller who peppers his tales with qualifiers and passives cuts his own throat and is easily the example to point to in an exercise for what not to do in fiction and dramatic writing. However, proof always (always being an absolute) in the proverbial pudding, does Robert W. Walker practice what he preaches? Take a look at these examples taken all from works in progress:



• From Flesh War:

In the Bay of Bengal, India modern day…

The side-wheeler Bristol Star of India chugged into thick fog that hinted at rich sea air, with just a suggestion of the stench of the disease in the mist over the bay. The disease island must be near, must be in the vicinity. Small, sad death boats, their bottoms filled with corpses had begun to emerge from the fog to drift by the Star’s bow. Angelica Hunter gasped at the sight and grabbed Eric’s arm for support.


• From City for Ransom:

Chicago, Illinois, June 1, 1893...3AM

The newly formed and lettered sign tore at its chain moorings where it dangled over the modest brownstone house, the shingle reading Dr. James Phineas Tewes, Phrenological and Magnetic Examiner until a lightning strike hit it, turning it into an unrecognizable charred mess.

Across town to the sound of thunder, lightning, wind, rain, and the clock tolling 5AM, Alastair Ransom climbed from bed, unable to sleep, his skin afire with malarial fever. He dosed himself with a hefty tumbler of quinine and Kentucky whiskey. He imagined strangling Dr. Caine McKinnette for having run out of his supply of quinine and antimony. He breathed in deeply, imagining the pleasure of his hands around the good doctor’s throat. Then once more what really troubled him began invading his night: the awful, bloody murder case that had fallen into his lap the day before.


THESE ARE ALL examples of opening with the verve of strong verbs, the conscious choice of few to no qualifiers, no WASes please! And active voice. Any elementary or high school grammar text is worth revisiting to rekindle these notions into fire in a writer’s gut. It’s the little things that make a female lead compelling. Revisit Passive vs. Active Voice, the handful of pages devoted to Qualifiers vs. Absolutes (voice), and while at it, look up sentence combining for the 4 types of sentences— Simple, Compound, Complex, and Compound Complex Imagine it, what Shakespeare utilized we all have to work with—shapes already formed, voice choice, to qualify or not to qualify, to BE or not to BE, and whether tis nobler in the mind to use a hammer blow of a two word sentence like Jesus wept, OR rather to compound it, complex it or compound complex it. And so full-blown characters and scenes come into being thanks to the author’s ability to triangulate all five senses on the page—heat and imagery on every page.

Robert’s website is chock full with advice and examples. Visit for the fun of it or for the lessons to be had. He’s also on facebook, twitter, myspace, and www.acmeauthorslink.blogsppot.com

Paper, Scissors, Death by Joanna Campbell Slan

My father always advised me to hang around with people smarter than me (not hard at all!) and I've carried that over to: hang around with people who are not only smarter, but have more creative energy, and it will rub off! Just one of the reasons I love to talk to JOANNA CAMPBELL SLAN, our own Agatha nominee for Paper, Scissors, Death, and one of the founding sisters of KillerHobbies. Joanna does everything times ten and does it all well. I'm happy to announce her special blog today, just a couple of days before she wows everyone at Malice Domestic and then again when Cut, Crop, & Die debuts in June. -- Camille Minichino (Margaret Grace)

Paper, Scissors, Death is the first book in a series about Kiki Lowenstein, a woman who believes she's only ever been good at two things: scrapbooking and getting pregnant. Her comfortable “soccer mom” life turns upside down when her husband, George, is found naked and dead in a hotel room. The autopsy shows George died of natural causes, but Kiki refuses to believe it. To complicate matters further, Kiki discovers George has “borrowed” a half a million dollars from his company. As she sells everything they own, she vows to uncover the truth behind George’s death.

To support herself and her eleven-year-old daughter Anya, Kiki takes a job at St. Louis’ premier scrapbook store, Time in a Bottle. She figures it’s the perfect cover for snooping around. Kiki’s not worried about the killer targeting her. After all, she’s a mom—and moms are invisible, right?

But Kiki quickly learns George had a secret life, and now that shadowy world endangers her and her child’s happiness. The murder of George’s old sweetheart makes Kiki a prime suspect—she could wind up making scrapbooks behind bars! Supported by her loyal friends, along with a little help (and a lot of stomach flutters) from the dashing Detective Detweiler, Kiki sheds her mousy housewife image and emerges as a woman of great courage.

Paper, Scissors, Death is funny like Janet Evanovich, romantic like Nora Roberts, and full of the joy of women’s friendships like Debbie Macomber. The book includes scrapbooking tips, and a coupon for 50 free digital prints from Snapfish.com

I was told that a book about a housewife would never sell. (Okay, I’m still laughing about that!) But as a motivational speaker to women’s groups and as a scrapbooker, I’d met some pretty remarkable women. So, I created a protagonist who embodied the best of what I admired along with a heaping tablespoon of flaws. I wanted to show how ordinary women will act in extra-ordinary ways to protect and defend those they love. And that’s exactly what Kiki Lowenstein does. Which is why readers really identify with her.

I’m the author of eleven other books, including seven scrapbooking technique books. In 2002, I founded The Best of British Scrapbooking Contest, the first international scrapbooking talent competition, which today is administered by ScrapBook inspirations Magazine. I’ve taught scrapbooking on cruise ships, in England, online and in the U.S. However, I was very careful to create a book that would appeal to crafters and non-crafters alike!

To celebrate being nominated for an Agatha, I’ve had buttons made that say, “Get Kiki!” (This is not to be confused with "Get kinky!" okay?) I’ll be passing them out at the conference.

**

clue word: scissors

**

Now you have all five clue words (or you can go look them up by viewing past posts). Send them and your name/postal address to SaveTales@aol.com

Put MALICE in the subject line. We'll select one lucky person to win a complete set of autographed Best First Novels. The drawing will take place first thing (for me that's 9:30 a.m. CST) on Monday, May 11. Be sure to add your mailing address to your entry so I can get these out to you right away!

Me and Martha

Even though I was tired from my Chicago trip and had a ton of things to do, I couldn’t resist when I saw the listing in the Sunday paper. Martha Stewart was doing a book signing for her craft encyclopedia at the Borders in Northridge.

I figured it was research since Molly Pink handles bookstore events in the crochet mysteries. I was curious to see what a real celebrity event was like. I was curious about Martha Stewart, too.

The newspaper said the event started at 3 and that’s when I arrived. There were tons of people there already. I heard a rumor that some people had gotten there at 6 a.m.. I found out the hard way that you couldn’t just get in line for the signing. There was a whole protocol set up. First you had to buy the book, then you stepped over to someone who checked your receipt and gave you a colored wrist band. I got a blue one and was told to hang around where I could hear the loudspeaker for an announcement for my group. I was also given a list of rules. The cut off number for wrist bands was 350. There would be no personalizing of books, and while we could take photos from the line, there would be no posing with Martha.

I found that the yellow wrist bands were already lined up, and the greens who followed them were hanging around waiting to be moved to the staging area. The blues were beginning to congregate behind the greens, so I joined them. Everybody was holding at least one heavy book.

I think it must have been an hour before the blues were moved into the staging area, but the time flew by. Most of the people in line were crafters and we all started talking. The woman behind me was a fellow crocheter and we talked granny squares. I handed out bookmarks for Dead Men Don’t Crochet.

At last we moved up and snaked around the bookshelves close to the signing table. Cameras came out and a bookstore employee checked that our books were all flapped with the front page tucked under the book cover to ensure the book would open right to the signing page.

A bookstore employee greeted each person in the line just as we got within sight of Martha, while a bunch of publicists and assistants hung around the table.

At last my moment was there. Martha looked just like she does on television. She said hello in a friendly voice. She noticed my crocheted flower pin and said I was obviously a crafter. I seized the moment and said I wrote a crochet themed mystery series. She countered by mentioning that they had a needlework encyclopedia coming out next year. She signed my book in green ink that perfecting matched the green in the book. Even after signing countless books, her handwriting was beautiful.

In retrospect, I realize I should have offered her a bookmark, but before I could think about it, my book was back in my hand and I was moving on to the next station where a man with big scissors was clipping off wrist bands and I heard an announcement that the purples were moving into the staging area.

The next day there was an article in the newspaper about the signing. Apparently it was the first time Martha had come to the San Fernando Valley in twenty years and the crowd came from all over, as far as fifty miles away. She was on the Tonight show that night and talked about the book signing and all the people who had showed up. It was neat to hear her referring to something I’d been to.

All in all it was a fun afternoon and I got a lot of ideas for my fictional bookstore events. The craft encyclopedia is great, filled with all kinds of things I’d like to make. And the perfect green ink signature makes it extra special.

I just hope that someday my blog sisters and I have book signings so popular we have to use color coded wrist bands to manage the crowd.

Three On a Match

A writing friend called last week for advice. She'd found an agent, her book had been sent out to publishers and she was waiting. Agonizing, this waiting. Soul deadening. She wanted to know what to do with herself while she waited.

My answer wasn't very inspired or original. Write, I said. Write. What else are you going to do?

It was a good answer, but my reasoning was off. Over the weekend, at the International Quilt Festival in Chicago, I found the real reason why an unpublished author should be working on the next book, and the next.

Three books are easier to sell than one.

Midnight Ink has published three of my quilting mysteries in fourteen months. This was the first time I was selling all three at a major show. I've hand sold my books on these big festivals before. Quilters stream by the booth, I engage them in conversation and tell them about my quilting mystery. If I talk enough and am engaging enough, they buy a book. It's hard work.

This time was different. People were more excited than ever. Despite the economy, I sold several hundred books in about 8 hours. Mostly in threes.

I think there are several reasons why we sold many sets of the series.

#1. Readers love series. They love owning all the books in the series. No one wants to get the third book and have to hunt for the first two.

#2. Three books tells the first time buyer that you're worth reading. The reader is comforted by the fact that a publisher decided to spend its money on you.

And in case you're thinking this only works at quilt shows, I gave a talk at the Milpitas Alliance for the Arts luncheon. Only a handful of quilters in the crowd. We sold 70 books.

So keep writing. Write that series. If you're lucky, your publisher will get the books out quickly, put eye-catching covers on them and you can sell, three at a time.

Options in Social Networking

Okay, here it is. I have a website and I blog and I do lots of research on the Internet for my writing. Plus, I have several e-mail addresses for different purposes.

Last weekend, I spoke at a writers’ organization where at least one person strongly suggested that I tweet on Twitter, and maybe put my face onto Facebook. I’ve been resisting both, since I already spend an inordinate amount of time on the Internet--time when I could be writing or plotting. Or even doing something else productive, like letting my Cavalier King Charles Spaniels Lexie and Mystie take me for a walk.

I suspect that Kendra Ballantyne, the protagonist of my Pet-Sitter Mystery series, does them both, for her pet-sitting company and even for her lawyering. She hasn’t admitted it to me. But, then, she’s much more efficient in her use of time than I am these days.

So... I decided to ask for opinions about Facebook and Twitter, both from readers and from other writers. What do you think? Is it helpful for an author to have a presence on either or both? What are the advantages? The disadvantages besides the additional time it takes to keep them up?


--Linda

Progress?

Because my mother may be moving into a nursing home later this year, I have taken to volunteering there one day a week, reading two different novels aloud to two different people. I was assigned these two and while it was at least partly chance (they were in their rooms when the man in charge of activities brought me around), he could hardly have chosen two more different people. But both are alert, funny, cheerful and opinionated, neither is really elderly (one is in her forties, the other I’d estimate to be in her early sixties), and I’m really glad I signed on for this. I’m reading an Elizabeth Peters Egyptology mystery to the older woman because she is just fascinated by ancient Egypt, and a Terry Pratchett fantasy novel about a cat named Maurice to the younger because she loves animal stories.

I’m getting a second chance to read a notated manuscript of Blackwork. By chance, the method changed at Penguin-Putnam between the two times. First time, I got the manuscript back in the mail, with notes scribbled on it and queries written in the margin on Post It notes. This time I get the manuscript electronically with words, phrases, and even a paragraph highlighted in yellow and when I run my cursor over the yellow, I get a box with a question or comment in it from my editor. Other changes are made in sky blue or red by my copy editor or editor – and changes I make are in maroon. The original text has a dotted line run through it with the new text following it in the bright color. Too cool – except my old computer’s antique word processing program isn’t very fond of the attached program to deal with the copy-editing. For one thing, I can’t leave my own replies to the notes and am having to send them separately. For another, having finished with the thing (I just left my computer running the several days it to9k to run through the ms.), I saved it and shut off the computer. When I realized I wanted to do some more work on it and tried to call it up, I got gibberish. I guess this new program is still a work in progress. Fortunately, I had already sent the ms to my home-grown editor, Ellen, who is having fewer problems with it. Sometimes I think I’m up to date on most things, then I get reminded that in many othere I’m a troglodyte.

My eyes continue to improve, but very slowly, and I’m still very bored by it all. At least I don’t have to wear goggles at water aerobics anymore.

Meanwhile, Buttons and Bones seems to have dragged to a stop. I did have a good idea that is causing me to do an extensive re-write of the two chapters that are written, but with a deadline starting to loom a bit (December), I’m getting anxious. The story’s there, it just doesn’t want to come out and play. I think there’s some bit of information I’m missing and as soon as I figure out what it is and go get it, the thing will tumble out like the contents of Fibber McGee’s closet. I sure hope so.

Another metaphor

Here's my latest mini scene. (It's for a fundraiser at Eden Medical Center in Castro Valley, if you care to contribute.)

I bought a 1/12 scale kitchen counter and we turned it into a hospital setting. By "we" I mean my crafts partner/niece, Mary Schnur, and I who worked on this together (okay, she's the better crafter). I wanted it to be an uplifting scene, so you'll see Get Well and Smiley balloons and a bouquet of flowers as well as x rays and a bar of chocolate on the counter. The front (not shown) has posters about flu shots and the pediatrics unit.

I'd like to call your attention to the specimen cups for -- uh -- you know. Mary insisted they be included, but I didn't have anything in my supply boxes that looked like a straight-sided plastic cup. Neither did I have time to use clay and bake one.

Finally, I stopped looking for a cup and looked for something that could be turned into a cup. Once I did that, everything looked like a cup. We settled on glue sticks, the 6- or 7-inch kind you insert into a glue gun. Perfect! They're clear, of the right diameter, and can be painted any color. Mary cut the stick into the appropriate size pieces and whipped up a yellow paint for -- uh -- you know, and orange for the cap. She also made a box of empty containers for the lower cabinet.

I like to turn everything into a metaphor for life, so here's how this one works: if you're looking for a plastic cup, look everywhere but in the cup drawer.

The Diva Runs Out of Thyme by Krista Davis

Today we welcome the fourth of our Agatha Award nominees for Best First Novel--Krista Davis.

Thanks to Joanna and the whole Killer Hobby crew for inviting me! I’m looking forward to seeing Linda and Betty again at Malice, and I hope I’ll meet the rest of you, too!

My charming editor doesn’t like to take credit for anything, but in the process of reviewing (and ultimately rejecting) a different proposal, she asked a question that sent me running to popular magazines. It was in the drugstore that I realized the Martha phenomenon had created a counterculture of busy women who want lovely homes and lives, but don’t have the time or inclination to carve teensy squirrels out of acorns to decorate a harvest tree. Thus the concept of two divas was born -- Sophie, who loves to entertain but keeps things simple and charming, and Natasha (one name, please, like Cher), who cannot understand why everyone doesn’t bake bread from scratch, craft their own wrapping paper and invitations, and wallpaper the ceiling.
To make matters worse, Natasha has taken up housekeeping with Sophie’s ex-husband. And now, in The Diva Runs Out of Thyme, the divas are competing for a coveted prize in the Stupendous Stuffing Shakedown.

But before Sophie can prove that she can trump Natasha with her Crusty Country Bread, Bacon & Herb Stuffing, Sophie stumbles over a corpse and lands on the police radar as a suspect in his death. The quiet family Thanksgiving that Sophie had planned swells to unexpected proportions when she’s saddled with neighbors and her former in-laws for dinner. Uncomfortable as that is, it’s not nearly as bad as suspecting that the killer is among them.

Writing about the divas is great fun. Of course, I suffer for my craft by endlessly trying out new recipes. Like Sophie, my jeans are getting tighter but I’m certain they shrank in the wash. The second Domestic Diva Mystery, The Diva Takes the Cake, will be in bookstores in June.

** Join us next week when our guest will be ME! (I'm not really a "guest" on my own home blog, though, am I?) Any hoot, I'm Joanna Campbell Slan, and I will be the last of the 2008 Best First Novel Agatha Award nominees to weigh in.

** Clue word: acorns

Remember--Submit all five "clue words" to savetales@aol.com (put CLUES in the Subject Line)and I'll draw a name from the group on Monday, May 11. The winner will receive an autographed set of all five of the Agatha-nominated Best First Novels. That would be G.M. Malliet's Death of a Cozy Writer, "Sarah Atwell's" Through a Glass, Deadly, Rosemary Harris' Pushing Up Daisies, Krista Davis' The Diva Runs Out of Thyme, and Joanna Campbell Slan's Paper, Scissors, Death.

The Other Yarn Art

I have a dark secret. Not only did I read, write and crochet during my personal retreat this past week. I did something else – something shocking, considering what goes on in my crochet mysteries. If one of my character’s knew what Iwas doing, she’d probably step out of the book and throw a fit.

What is this activity that would cause so much turmoil? I taught myself how to knit. Before I go further I ought to mention it is for something else I’m writing, and also out of curiosity so I can figure out what the big deal is about knitting, anyway. I know knitting has been around longer than crochet which might have earned it the first position when people refer to the two crafts together. It is always knit and crochet. Even though I object to the order, I find myself giving knitting first billing, too.

Back to my knitting attempts. I sort of knew how from long ago. I mean long, long ago. A college friend of mine had gone to a fat farm (is that a politically incorrect phrase these days?) and I went to visit her. It was this creepy place in Indiana which, if you weren’t on her diet , had surprisingly good food. It was sort of health resort. I think they were known for their mineral baths and some kind of sour milk drink. I partook of neither. But this has nothing to do with knitting.

My friend had taken up knitting to pass the time and got me to do the same during my visit. I think she’s the one who showed me the ropes or should I say yarns. I have no idea how I cast on the stitches. Maybe somebody did it for me. I just remember using baseball bat size wooden needles and four strands of yarn to make some sort of dress. All the rows were knitted and I didn’t learn how to purl. I think that’s called the stockinette stitch. I did finally finish the dress after I’d gone home and I have to say it was probably the ugliest most unflattering thing I’d ever seen.

I think knitting is a little like bicycle riding in that if you’ve ever done it, your fingers kind of remember what to do even years and years later, but since I’d never learned to purl, my fingers had to work on that one. I discovered purling was no big deal. You just stick the needle in from the top and put the yarn in front of it. I tried doing swatches over and over. My stitches got better and I realized why the edge looked crooked (I had dropped an end stitch several rows back). I figured out how to tell whether a knit or purl row came next if I had set aside my work in mid swatch. If the bumpy side is facing, it time for a purl row. If the smooth side is facing, the next row is a knit one.

I just moved beyond swatches and am going to try the little coin purse from the Klutz knitting book and kit I have. So far the edges look even, but I have to admit, I still don’t get the big deal of knitting. When I took a break and went back to my hook, I felt a big sigh of relief.

International Quilt Festival

I'm always amused by the looks I get when I say I write quilting mysteries. "That's nice, dear. Your little sewing circle must be so proud. Is that shawl you're wearing crocheted from yarn from your own alpaca? Pass me some of your homemade succotash." Okay, no one says that out loud, but that's what they're thinking.

I wish they could be with me today. I'm at a "little" quilt show. Seriously this is not the biggest show that will be held this year and it's only one of several this size.

The Chicago International Quilt Show is less than five years old, but was a hit from the first day. It has grown quickly to include over a thousand quilts from artists all over the world and five hundred vendors selling fabric, machines, beads, buttons completely taking over the 250,000 square feet of the Donald E Stephens Convention Center. Attendance might be down a little from last year's high of nearly 25,000 but quilters are a hardy lot so I expect the numbers will be close.

Of course the best thing about these shows is meeting people. It's a very cool thing to be surrounded by someone people who like what you do. While I'm not sure how many people in the midwest have found my books yet, I generally find myself welcomed. Quilters like to read almost as much as they like to quilt.

So if you're in Chicago, stop by and take a look. You might just be amazed.

Synchronicity Follow-up

Last week I blogged about one day that was unusually filled with fascinating stuff relating to pets and pet rescues. Since then, my good friend Linda, who’d saved a dog in her Las Vegas neighborhood recently, forwarded an e-mail from another friend of hers who’d rescued a dog wandering the freeway near Victorville, California, and was trying to find it a home. This was a lot of rescue stuff compressed into a short time for Linda, who doesn’t currently even have a pet. And, by the way, if you know of someone interested in adopting an approximately 3-year-old shepherd/chow mix, let me know and I’ll give you what contact info I have. Of course, I’m not sure of the status of this rescue, and the pup may already have a new home.

In the meantime, my own little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel Mystie made me frantically think of pet rescues for, fortunately, a short time this week when she disappeared while helping my husband Fred with his gardening in our backyard. Turns out the fence between our neighbor’s yard and ours has slats that are close enough together to keep most of our respective dogs where they belong, but Mystie is particularly petite and slipped through. Then she somehow sneaked into an area under a platform where we store our garbage cans--most of which is already enclosed. Fortunately, she started crying when we called her and Fred managed to coax her out. We hadn’t discovered the fence problem before, because Mystie hadn’t, either... till now. Fred is already making plans for putting up more fencing on our side.

And, yes, since I’m blogging about animals today--as usual--I can’t help but bring up the new First Dog, Bo. He’s a purebred Portuguese Water Dog, and I found it interesting that his adoption seemed initially couched in a sort-of rescue since he’d lived with another family for a short while, then was re-homed with the Obamas after a major training session. And as a gift from Ted Kennedy made sense to choose the animal they wanted, no matter which part of the public complained. Poor Vice President Biden, too, wound up being criticized for adopting a purebred dog, a German Shepherd. Controversy? Sure. President Obama had said, during his campaign, that he hoped to adopt a rescue mutt. But there would have been some controversy about any pup the Obamas adopted. If it had been a rescue, its ancestry would possibly be less determinable, so people would complain about the potential harm to the Obama daughter who has allergies. To me, it. In my opinion, it’s a personal decision. But the one thing I’m absolutely against is people who allow their pets to have babies indiscriminately, then abandon them. Or they otherwise mistreat their non-human kids. They’re the ones who really deserve criticism.

What’s your opinion of the Obamas’ adoption of Bo? And have you ever rescued an animal?

--Linda

SOMETHING

I know what gave me constipation of the brain this morning. I had two things on my mind. One threatens to become a bore: the ongoing saga of my eyes. My surgeon sure enough clipped a stitch loose from my right eye – but decided the other would probably be troublesome as well and clipped a stitch loose from it, too. Well, in a way he was right. The pressure in the left eye is now way too low; would you believe the pressure in it after the clip was three and a few days later it was down to two? He believes it will come back up on its own so we’re just waiting for that to happen. But like the song from "GiGi," "It’s a bore!" And meanwhile my vision is a little blurry.

The other thing is that I had signed up to come to a political demonstration at our state capitol building this evening and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to talk about it. It was certainly on my mind, to the exclusion of just about everything else. So I've decided to report on what happened.

Ellen and I went over to St. Paul, parked some distance away and took a bus to the site. I was reminded of why city buses are not my favorite mode of transportation. The bus is slow, it's smelly, it’s rattle-trappy. The demonstration started at five, we got there closer to six. There was a good size crowd, noisy but friendly. About six thousand strong at that point, they carried all kinds of signs. It was called a "Tea Party," after the Boston Tea Party and it was one of hundreds taking place all over the country. It was my first political demonstration, and it was fun (though I wish we had brought something to sit on). There were a lot of speakers but they kept their speeches very short. Some got the crows stirred up, chanting "No More Taxes." Signs ranged from professionally printed to hand-made on scraps of cardboard. "Government big enough to give you anything you want is strong enough to take everything you have," was one big sign. Most were shorter than that, and some were humorous: "Next Time Read the Bill" was a favorite. Many were ornamented with tea bags, and someone had turned TEA into an acronym: Taxed Enough Already. The crowd kept growing, within an hour it was up to ten thousand. It was a typical Minnesota crowd, friendly and cheerful, well-leavened with children. At one point, a news helicopter hovered close enough overhead to drown out one speaker and some people were shaking their fists at it. The speaker finally told all of us to turn and wave at it in a friendly way, so we did, and that startled the pilot enough that he pulled up and back. We came away footsore and hungry and wondering if our elected officials will get the message: We're friendly but serious. And I’m going to watch the news tonight to see if that turn-and-wave bit shows up on television.

Nothing

I am completely stumped for a topic today. I am going over to the Courage Center Pool for a water aerobics session in a little while, perhaps the exercise will unfog my brain.

More later? I hope so.

Stuff

On Saturday I was part of a panel for NorCal MWA, talking about the various subgenres of mystery fiction. Other panelists were Penny Warner, Robin Burcell, and Sophie Littlefield (next to me at the table), and brilliantly moderated by Tim Maleeny. Our own Terri Thayer was present and added much to the discussion. We covered topics ranging from the conventions of different subgenres to finding a niche market for our books.

I won't rehash whether we thought "the cop boyfriend" is overused, or whether talking pets add to or detract from the cozy genre. My biggest insight is best described by the photo.

Notice the pile of STUFF in front of me. I have promotional postcards, souvenir rulers, a folder of articles from my research, a one-page handout on the conventions of the cozy, 2 book covers from my first series showing the difference in approach for the same book, a notebook and pen for jotting down thoughts from others, a mini reading scene I put together featuring the books of the panelists and others, a badge with my bookcover on it, and a Writers Digest version of the subgenres to pass around.

Sophie's place at the table is bare—not even a pencil. The paper you see is MINE. Yet she managed to talk quite a bit, be very entertaining, and give a great deal of information. So did Robin, whose place was also bare. Penny had some STUFF, but not as much as I did.

Is it me or is it the genre? Cozies do lend themselves to tchotchkes, but I may, just may, overdo it. Does it come from teaching science for so many years, when I always had demo equipment or a model of the atom in front of me? But even when I taught philosophy, I had STUFF -- a cartoon, a page of quotes, a video clip of a piece of dialogue that was pertinent.

Do you need stuff to make your points? Do I?

I have thought about going cold on this. STUFF is heavy to carry around (unless you're traveling with Ann Parker, who will carry your bag for the price of a cup of coffee, or less!) and it takes a long time for me to pack, even for a simple book signing. But the fact is, I have fun doing it. I might always do it.

Pushing Up Daisies by Rosemary Harris

Today we welcome the third of our Agatha Award nominees for Best First Novel--Rosemary Harris.

Thanks so much Joanna and all the other Killer Hobbyists for inviting me to meet your readers. My first book, Pushing Up Daisies really did spring from my own hobby – gardening. Although I’ve always loved reading mysteries, I never dreamed I’d write one until one frigid February (much like this month in CT) when I saw a tiny item in the newspaper that read Mummified Body Identified. Ordinarily in February, I’d be outside pruning my azaleas, cutting back ornamental grasses and bringing in forsythia to force indoors. But that year we had 17 snowstorms in CT and gardening – while much on my mind – was months away. I had the time to do some research and I learned that the body that had been found hadn’t been 100% identified. I found myself thinking what most mystery writers think at some point – What if? What if they’re wrong?

’m convinced that if I’d read the article in June I’d never have written the book, but weaving (forgive me!) the story out of that one headline, and making my heroine a gardener was a way for me to be in the garden without freezing my keister off!

Apart from my own desire to be outside, it made perfect sense to make Paula Holliday a gardener. Every amateur sleuth has to have a job (unless you’re (Peter Wimsey) and as a gardener Paula can make her own hours, have lots of free time to solve crimes during the off-season, and she has a legitimate reason to be thrown together with lots of different types of people – from the day laborers she sometimes hires to the bluebloods whose gardens she works on. While I like to have Paula do some gardening in the books, they don’t include garden plans, and, although I am a master gardener, I hesitate to give gardening advice since every zone is different and every soil is different. That didn’t stop a woman from coming to one of my readings with a rotten tomato in a ziplock baggie. I was glad to learn that she wanted me to diagnose a problem and it wasn’t a reaction to the book!

Pushing Up Daisies has been a terrific experience for me – I know how lucky I’ve been! It was a Mystery Guild Selection, on Library Journal’s Best First Fiction List and now an Agatha Nomination. I’m over the moon! Book two in the series is The Big Dirt Nap, which just came out, and this month I’ll be delivering the manuscript for Deadhead, to be released in 2010. Thanks again for letting me chat about them here.
Cheers,
Rosemary

** Join us next week when our guest will be Krista Davis author of The Diva Runs Out of Thyme.

** Clue word: tomatoes

Remember--Submit all five "clue words" and I'll draw a name from the group on Monday, May 11. The winner will receive an autographed set of all five of the Agatha-nominated Best First Novels. That would be G.M. Malliet's Death of a Cozy Writer, "Sarah Atwell's" Through a Glass, Deadly, Rosemary Harris' Pushing Up Daisies, Krista Davis' The Diva Runs Out of Thyme, and Joanna Campbell Slan's Paper, Scissors, Death.

News and Appearances

Monday’s author, Joanna Campbell Slan, Joanna will be appearing on Saturday, April 18, 10-11:30 a.m. as part of their Mystery Go Round breakfast at the Buder Library on 4401 Hampton, in St. Louis. To attend, you must make a reservation. Please call Jim Moses at 314-352-2900. Joanna's Aprila newsletter with a scrapbooking project, ideas and freebies will go out this weekend. If you aren't on the subscribers' list, email her at savetales@aol.com and put NEWSLETTER in the Subject Line to be added.

Tuesday’s author, Camille Minichino (Margaret Grace), will be speaking at a high school career day this week. On which career? Scientist? Writer? Teacher? Crafter? Minister? She's working on a new one: Reinventor, every few years.

Thursday’s author, Linda O. Johnston, will be speaking to the Writers of Kern in Bakersfield, California on Saturday, April 18, and will be signing at Mysterious Galaxy in San Diego, California, along with Harley Jane Kozak on Sunday, April 19, at 2:00 PM.

Friday’s author, Terri Thayer, will be signing books at the Quilting Books Unlimited Booth at the International Quilt Festival/Chicago, Rosemont, IL, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

Visit us every Sunday for updates and news.

RWC Retreat

The airplane arrived from Chicago. The passengers came into the terminal at LAX. I could almost hear them sigh with pleasure as they looked at the blue sky and warm sunlight streaming through the windows.

I got on the same plane and it flew right back to Chicago. It was cold, dark and late when I arrived, but I sighed with pleasure all the same. I guess it is just the appeal to being somewhere else.

I was supposed to have company while I was here, but there was a change in plans and I have a week alone. I have turned this time into my own personal retreat - just reading, writing and crocheting with some walks thrown in and well, a little cleaning, too. The company is showing up later.

So what am I reading? Mr. Monk Goes to Hawaii by Lee Goldberg. I picked it up last month at Left Coast Crime in Kona. Lee was the toastmaster of the event and when he signed my book I found out he was also a former Tarzanian. It’s a fun read and even though it takes place in Kauai and I was on the big island, it still reminds me of my trip. When I finish, I have seven rooms with overflowing bookcases full of choices.

I didn’t bring clothes, just a suitcase full of yarn. The one thing not conveniently located around here is a yarn store or a Michael’s or Joann’s. I always bring yarn, crochet tools, and crochet books to leave here, which means I have now yarn stashes in two locations. Anyone who knits or crochets will get the importance of that.

I plan to make several of the pouch purses featured in the fourth crochet mystery, which I think might be called A Twisted Yarn. I also want to play. I’m always in a hurry and product oriented. I wanted to try stitches and combinations of them for an idea I have for the project in book number 5.

And the writing. Well, there’s book number 5 and something else I’m working on, too. Along with all the yarn, I brought some yellow legal pads. I like to start with them. For some reason I never have blank page anxiety when I handwrite, the way I do when I look at a blank screen with a winking cursor.

To finish off the retreat, I have lots of coffee and loads of local good food. Am I in heaven, or what?

What is your dream getaway?

20% faster page turns

That's part of the ad for the new Kindle. I'm doing a little Kindle research because I've got a lot of travel ahead of me. I am trying to imagine not hauling the usual books and other reading material.

I'm not exactly an early adopter. I love my Ipod but stick to a pretty basic phone. I don't text, except the occasional happy birthday to a teenager. I never watch TV in real time, relying on my dvr to record my shows and keep me up to date. I drive a 6 year-old car and have no desire to trade it in.

And I love books. I like holding them, smelling them, feeling the heft. Turning the page in anticipation of finding out what comes next. Throwing it across the room in a fit of pique feels good, too. I like shopping for books. I get a thrill of discovery wandering the aisles of a book store that I can never get paging through lists of titles on the Internet.

Still, the Kindle promises me much more than a reading experience. I can store hundreds of books. I can change the font size, even the font color. I can look up the meanings of words rather than guessing as I usually do. Annotating the text electronically might be fun. And there's that faster page turn. 20% faster.

Everyone I know that has one seems to like it? How about you?

For me, I think I'm going to hold off for a while. The Kindle is here to stay. Perhaps I'll wait for the Kindle 3 before I invest.

Synchronicity

Most of my days involve animals--my Lexie and Mystie, at least, and usually some I’m writing about in my Kendra Ballantyne, Pet-Sitter mystery series, and Silhouette Nocturnes featuring shapeshifters or K-9 cops with Valkyrie powers.

Earlier this week, I had a day where one animal-related situation seemed to follow another, and I certainly didn’t plan it that way. Sounded like synchronicity to me!

The first event I did plan, though. I’d been intending for a while to introduce myself to a local attorney who specializes in animal law, brainstorm with him about ideas for Kendra stories, and ask if I could use him as a resource for animal law questions. He was a delightful man, and tried coming up with ideas on the spot!

In addition, he told me about a meeting that night at the Los Angeles County Bar Association where the speakers had been involved with a lawsuit against the local county’s animal rescue organization, and were speaking about it--with the added benefit of Continuing Legal Education credits. Of course I had to go... and was outraged by the alleged violations of law they described, as well as failure to fully abide by the settlement that had been reached--violations that resulted in abuse or premature euthanasia of animals. I introduced myself to some of the people there and believe they, too, might become excellent research resources.

And then when I returned home, a good friend whose dog had died some years ago had called for some pet advice. She and her husband found a Yorkie wandering their gated community in the Las Vegas area and wanted my opinion on how to deal with the situation. The way she described it, they’d been handling it just fine--posting signs, allowing the dog to sleep in their home that night (and thereby avoiding coyotes) and calling the phone number on the pup’s tag. The number was for a shelter, and by the time they’d found the dog no one was answering the shelter’s phone, but they’d planned to follow up the next day. Sure enough, after some effort the next day, they did locate the owners--who seemed awfully blasé about losing their dog for two days, as I understand it. At least it had a happy ending... maybe. It’ll be a lot happier if the owners pay attention to the pup and don’t leave it alone in a yard it can clearly escape from.

Anyway, lots of interesting stuff about people who defended and nurtured animals, occurring, or at least starting, all in one day. With all this synchronicity, you’d think I should write a mystery series featuring a pet rescuer...!

What synchronicity has been going on in your life?

--Linda

PROGRESS

I knew the world had changed when I opened a chill box door at my local grocery store and heard music playing in back, where employees load the milk, eggs, juices, and yogurt. Oh, I’ve heard music back there before, but it’s usually something like heavy metal. Today it was a reed instrument playing something Middle Eastern. Have any of you seen signs that the world is changing?

The surgery on my left eye went well. I was less doped up this time and now realize it takes half an hour, not fifteen minutes. The right eye seemed to heal without incident but the surgeon says the pressure still isn’t down enough and so wants me to come back in tomorrow to have one of the stitches holding the opening partly closed removed so more fluid can leak out. I wonder what minimum pressure it takes to keep the human eye from collapsing? (But I worry needlessly about a lot of things.)

With some assistance the piece of counted cross stitch depicting three critters playing in the rain was turned into a small pillow and sent on its way to my agent in New York. I hope she likes it. Meanwhile I have begun another comic piece depicting a flamingo wearing a flower and flip flops under the motto, "Don’t Worry, Be Happy." This is another gift. I’m getting much better at giving my work away. Once upon a time I wouldn’t do a piece unless I wanted it for myself. I find I am more likely to struggle to completion if I’ve promised it to someone else.

My great niece contacted me out of the blue – I don’t think I’ve ever actually met her – to say she wants to be a writer and could I give her some advice. First thing I did was warn her that it’s not always a good idea, that the occupation has as many heart breaks as rewards. Then I offered her a copy of my "How To Write a Play-Fair Mystery" even though I’m not sure what kind of book she wants to write. If she’s like me, I won’t be able to discourage her. I hope she is, and that she’s a success.

Happy Easter, everyone!

Who am I?

The local community college where I've been giving writing workshops for many years informed me that I had to be fingerprinted. Apparently the fingerprints they took for my credential years ago doesn't count.

Also, it doesn't matter that my prints have been on file with Department of Defense and the Department of Energy since Perry Como was on the charts, or that I have a security clearance for work at a national laboratory. I needed a "live scan" and I needed it now.

I dutifully took myself to the nearest laser scan system, had my fingertips washed and scanned, and crossed the task off my nuisance list.

Too soon. A few days ago, I got a notice that reads: Your fingerprints have been rejected by the FBI.

Huh? I've had stories rejected, even an entire novel once. But never a body part. Are my ridges not structured in a pleasing way? Or does the FBI think I plagiarized my prints?

Does this mean I don't exist? That I'm unknowingly in WitSec? That if a tree falls in a forest … ?

So, I have to have them rescanned. If it doesn't work this time, the notice says, they'll have to do a "name check."

Whatever that is.

If they're going to check the phone book, there I will be. Maybe they'll look for my name on the rosters of Sisters in Crime or Mystery Writers of America, or KillerHobbies. I'm there, too.

Why couldn't they have done that in the first place?

One of my friends thinks the FBI is suspicious of my prints because I have a season pass to "24" on my TiVo. Who knows?

Has anyone else ever been confused by a note from the government?

Through a Glass, Deadly by "Sarah Atwell"

Today we welcome the second of our Agatha Award nominees for Best First Novel Sheila Connolly who writes as Sarah Atwell.

Many thanks to the writers at Killer Hobbies for allowing the Twisted Sisters of Malice to toot their own horns here.

I never planned to be two people, but I was born a Gemini, so I guess I should have been prepared. Still, Sarah Atwell was a surprise. Three years ago my agent said, "Berkley Prime Crime is looking for someone to write a glassblowing series. Are you interested?" Of course I was. I have always loved glassblowing–I've even visited the glassblowers' island of Murano, outside of Venice–and I was a medieval art historian for a time, so I knew something about glass. I made a beeline to Sandwich Glass on Cape Cod and interviewed their sole woman glassblower, and then I took a hot glass class myself, so I'd be able to describe the process–and Tucson glassblower Em Dowell was born, making her debut appearance in Through a Glass, Deadly.

I love Em. She's fiercely independent but she really cares about people–her long-time employee Nessa, her brother Cam, and even needy strangers like Allison McBride (whose husband turns up dead in Em's studio). She hides a soft heart with a sharp tongue. She doesn't let her on-again-off-again relationship with the Tucson police chief get in the way of doing what she thinks is right. She's a lot of fun to write, and I want to be her when I grow up.

That's why it was such a happy surprise when Sarah Atwell got the call that Through a Glass, Deadly had been nominated for an Agatha Award. It's a wonderful tribute when people like what you write, and you are rewarded for doing something you love to do. I am truly grateful to be on the list with such talented people.

**
Join us next week when our guest will be Rosemary Harris, author of Pushing Up Daisies.

** Clue word: frit

Remember--Submit all five "clue words" and I'll draw a name from the group on Monday, May 11. The winner will receive an autographed set of all five of the Agatha-nominated Best First Novels. That would be G.M. Malliet's Death of a Cozy Writer, "Sarah Atwell's" Through a Glass, Deadly, Rosemary Harris' Pushing Up Daisies, Krista Davis' The Diva Runs Out of Thyme, and Joanna Campbell Slan's Paper, Scissors, Death.

News and Appearances

News from Monday’s author, Joanna Campbell Slan: Joanna will be appearing on Saturday, April 18, 10-11:30 a.m. as part of their Mystery Go Round breakfast at the Buder Library on 4401 Hampton, in St. Louis. To attend, you must make a reservation. Please call Jim Moses at 314-352-2900.

Tuesday’s author, Camille Minichino (Margaret Grace), On April 2, Camille was keynote speaker for a fundraiser for the new Castro Valley, CA, library. She reports: it was fun to spend the evening asking the VIPs to support a great cause! A mini scene with the Castro Valley newspaper was featured and raffled off also. In anticipation of National Library Week (April 12-18), Camille will be featured at a book fair at the technical library of Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory on April 8. A full schedule of classes and events for Camille is at http://www.minichino.com/

Friday’s author, Terri Thayer, will be speaking at the Milipitas Alliance for the Arts Literary Luncheon on March 28th. Tickets available. Call Larry Voellger at 408-942-6960 or http://www.milpitasarts.com/.

Happy Birthday

For my birthday, my son and I went to Disneyland. I’ve been there a zillion times, so when there were long lines for all the good rides, I didn’t mind skipping them. My favorite things to do is people watch anyway. Something struck me there which I’ve been noticing a lot. Nobody seems to be where they are anymore. What I mean is they are talking on a cell phone or sending text messages, or emails on a BlackBerry instead of paying attention to where they are and who they are with. As far as I’m concerned the only use for any of those devices at an amusement park is if you get separated from whoever you came with, you can call them.

The extreme was a couple I noticed when we stopped for lunch at an outdoor café in New Orleans square. The woman stared down at her salad eating forkful after forkful without ever looking up at her companion. She finally did move her gaze to the side of her plate. I watched as she typed something into her phone before going back to the mechanized eating. The man with her at least looked at his surroundings while he ate his burger. Then I noticed his gaze go to the side of his plate. I could tell by the scrolling movement of his thumb, he had a BlackBerry. I didn’t see them exchange one word their whole meal.

I checked out the couple with a baby in a stroller a few tables down. Their lunch arrived and without a word or even glance toward each other, they began eating. Neither one appeared hostile toward the other, actually they appeared completely indifferent. As if the hostess had asked two strangers if they’d mind sharing a table. But even two strangers would have had more contact than these two. They never even made eye contact. Never smiled or spoke. They just chewed and stared off in the distance. They didn’t have phone or BlackBarries as an excuse either. A divorce in the making?

On the happy side of people watching were all the little girls in their Cinderella blue ball gowns and Belle pink ones, along with some in multi color Snow White outfits. It’s funny how somethings change and some don’t. The princess idea is obviously still alive and well.

Oh, one other thing. Not only did Disneyland give me free admission, but I also got a big button proclaiming it was my birthday with my name written in. Then most of the employees, or cast members as they are called, kept wishing me a happy birthday the whole time we were there. Talk about feeling important – But then it was Fantasyland.

The D List

Here's a mystery. Where did March go? Seriously. It's April already. Good news is that that means OCEAN WAVES, the third in the quilting mystery series, is out. Launch party will at Always Quilting in San Mateo on Sunday from noon-4pm. Hope you can be there.

I've been on Facebook several months and have been enjoying the interaction. It's fun to know what other quilters, crafters and writers are up to. I'm even okay with the mundane updates like "I just ate a double cheeseburger for lunch," or "Two birds are fighting outside my window." I don't appreciate the blatant self-promotion ones and find some people need to take a chill pill and stop updating, but I can control those and just enjoy news from those I'm genuinely interested in.

On Facebook, these lists go around. 25 Random Things about Me, or Places I've Been or Books I've Read. I ignore them for the most part, although I love reading others.

I thought it would be fun to do one of these popular lists for Dewey Pellicano, my heroine in the quilting mystery series. Here goes:

The D List.

1. What is your name: Dewey
2. A four Letter Word: Dork (also nickname for Buster)
3. A boy's name: Dino (my first boyfriend, 2nd grade. He had the longest eyelashes allowed on a boy)
4. A girl's Name: Diablo (Cody, the screenwriter for Juno, a favorite movie)
5. An occupation: diamond cutter
6. A color: deep blue (you know who's eyes.)
7. Something you wear: denim (although Buster wears it better)
8. A food: dim sum. (Yum!)
9. Something found in the bathroom: Dog hair. Don't ask.
10. A place: Donner Pass
11. A reason for being late: delay (Vangie tried this one, but she rides a bike to work not BART. Nice try!)
12. Something you shout: Dammit! (Yes, I do. Usually when doing the books at the store)
13. A movie title: Day of the Dead. (Buster talked me into it. But I liked it.)
14. Something you drink: diet Peach Snapple.
15. A musical group: Dead. (Vangie's looking over my shoulder, what else could I say?)
16. An animal: Dingo. (Can you hear Vangie? "A dingo ate my baby." Now she'll be saying that all day.)
17. A street name: D'Anza Blvd.
18. A type of car: Dodge Dart (I listen to Car Talk, too)
19. The title of a song: Delilah (Mom was a big Tom Jones fan)

Tag, you're it!

Belated Celebration of Earp

This is in praise of Earp. Not Wyatt Earp, the celebrated lawman of the 19th Century, but one of his namesakes--a police dog in San Diego, which was where Wyatt operated saloons and gambling halls.

Earp the dog recently did his cop duty by confronting a knife-wielding murder suspect. He was given the “bite and hold” command and attempted to subdue the suspect. Earp was stabbed. The suspect also lunged at the human police and was shot dead. His dead wife was found inside his house.

And Earp? His injuries were serious. He lost a lot of blood. But, fortunately, he is going to survive. He was already near doggy retirement age, and it appears he’ll be able to return to active patrol duty for a little while first.

His story appeared in the news about a week ago. I’d seen it in the paper, saved it, but put it away. Then my older son (not the one who lives in San Diego, though) called it to my attention, said it would make a good topic for my blog.

I agreed, so here it is.

Many thanks to Earp and all smart animals who try hard to take care of their people! What’s your favorite story of animals helping humans?

--Linda

Random Thoughts

Did you ever notice how many two cats can be? When they want something – especially food – two cats are omnipresent. Everywhere you look, there’s a cat, up in your face, under your feet. Two cats turn into a herd. How do people with six cats, eight cats, cope? They must feel they are drowning in cats at dinner time!

I’m finally finished with a piece of counted cross stitch, a gift for my agent. I am not fond of doing counted cross stitch, though I absolutely love the result. I have trouble keeping track of the pattern. The piece I was working on calls for lots of backstitching which most stitchers dislike. But I have discovered a secret – two secrets. First, do the backstitching as a double running stitch. It goes faster. Second, do the backstitching first. For people like me, who lose their way doing counted and quit, doing the backstitching first gives us an outline to work with. Then the stitching is like coloring between the lines. I’m sure this works only for simpler patterns – see the photo in this blog entry, but boy does it work!

Be thinking about me tomorrow, Thursday, around 8 in the morning, when my left eye gets operated on. Thank you.

I’ve started reading to two women in a nursing home next door to our building. One is fascinated by things Ancient Egyptian, and I was pleased to be able to bring her a large book full of color plates of the treasures found in King Tut’s tomb. The other woman said she liked dogs, so I brought a book of doggerel (!) about dogs, called "Sonnets from the Pekinese" by Burges Johnson. Since there weren’t enough good poems to last for the entire visit, I also brought along my collection of the poems of Robert Service, who is probably most famous for “The Cremation of Sam McGee.” Such stout, complex rhymes! None of that “free verse” stuff, and none of that almost-a-rhyme that marks so much of today’s poetry (especially music). Humorous, yes, but beautifully crafted poems. She liked hearing them and I liked reading them, so next week we go to Rudyard Kipling. Does anyone have suggestions for what to read after that? Easy listening poems, moving or stirring or humorous – and it has to rhyme!